Family Responsibility
by Sandalaris
Summary: A whole bunch of Jalex and pre-Jalex one-shots, drabbles, fluff, angst, ect. that I feel are too small to stand by themselves. Everything from the rating of G to maybe even some day a M.
1. When We Grow Up

When We Grow Up

Summary: He was older and smarter so he knew the meaning behind her words, even if she didn't.

"When we grow up…" He's heard the beginning of this sentence a hundred times he thinks, or some variation of it, and he knows she's young and can't know that she won't live with her brothers forever, even he can't imagine not being with his mom and dad and siblings, but he's smart and knows one day they'll have to move out, so he doesn't correct her. She'll learn eventually.

It's the images she paints inside his head with her words that worry him. She talks of grown up things and what they'll do when mama and daddy can't tell them what to do anymore and he smiles at her conviction, but he knows better; it hurts a little that the pretty pictures won't come true.

Alex stomps her foot in the petulant anger that only the five through seven year olds seem to possess. She's mad at their mother for not letting them stay up late; somehow she's become convinced that all the good cartoons come on at night. Personally, Justin's upset cause he's bedtimes the same as his little sister's, and he cried and yelled, but his mom still didn't budge. "You know," she says, her arms crossed over her chest, "when we grow up and have our own place, we can stay up all night to watch cartoons."

The picture comes unbidden to his mind, and it hurts a little to think that she won't always want to be with him, stay with him. "What about Max? Will get to stay up too?"

"Max'll have his own place. He can do whatever he wants, but at our place, we'll stay up late." She says it so matter-of-factly that he finds himself believing her words and his heart does a happy little flip at the thought before he reminds himself that she's too young to know what she's saying.

She stops taking about it when she's eight, and Justin thinks she's moved on.

He's building a robot, the parts scattered all over the kitchen table, but he's got less than a year left before college and he's determined to get a second one done in time for graduation. Alex comes down the stairs, stopping for a second to glance at the mess he's made before heading towards the refrigerator. "We're going to have to have a second bedroom in our place, cause there's no way I'm dealing with all this stuff," she makes a vague gesture at the parts scattered on the table, "in our kitchen." He freezes as she grabs what she was looking for and heads back upstairs, but he can't stop the smile that spread across his face at the thought.


	2. Differenciate

Differentiate

Summary: She loved him, he was her brother and her lover and she didn't get why people felt she had to choose. To her there was no difference.

_Brother. Lover. Boyfriend. Sibling. _

They were interchangeable, easily swapped one for the other. Harper didn't get it, didn't seem to understand. She'd often ask, at the most inconvenient of times, when Alex had stopped looking at Justin like her brother, and the witch would just turn her head to the side in confusion and say she didn't.

Uncle Kelbo would inquire, during whispered conversations, if she placed her role as sister first, or if her role as girlfriend overrode it and she'd give him a blank look and a mumbled "Huh?"

He wasn't both, because they were one in the same. Their love had grown, changed because she did not feel for Max what she felt for Justin, but it didn't make her sisterly love for her elder brother any less or more than her romantic love for him; two parts of one whole.

She loved Harper as a friend and as a sister she never had. She couldn't distinguish between the two because they came from the same origin, the same emotion.

Nobody questioned when someone fell in love with a friend, no one claimed that the feelings that developed were different, they simply said that the love had grown, maybe changed a little, but there was no denying that friendship and love had mixed and mingled together as one. Her love for her brother, the feelings she felt for him, were no different. If they were two different emotions, she didn't, couldn't, differentiate between the two.


	3. Such Insignificance

Such Insignificance  
Summary: Set after the competition. Justin looks back at the thoughts going through his head and comes to a startling conclusion.

When he looks back on it, he can see that it's sort of odd. In his memory, she's a stranger although she's held such recognition to him all these years that he can't believe he ever forgot her.

He was confused, his befuddled mind unable to comprehend that she was asking something of him, a complete stranger and he can't see why he should help her. But the surrounds are unfamiliar, and her voice sounds so broken, although her words barely penetrate is mind, turning more into back ground noise to his own questions and thoughts, that he can't seem to stay focused on anything else for long.

The sight of her tear streaked face breaks something deep inside of him, and he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that he'll do anything for her. The urge to reach out and grasp her, hold her close and stop the flow of tears leaking from dark eyes is strong and kiss away the sadness is frighteningly strong.

"_but you love me anyways_,"

The words leave her mouth and seem to get los, caught on the wind and twirled around in a dance in the air before finding their way to him, because she's moved on to other things; things he still can't fully remember. He can taste the truth of them on his tongue as they settle deep within him.

He can't leave her. He knows this with a certainty that leaves him dizzy at the logic; he barely knows her yet he'd do anything she asks. Her pretty face looks lost, broken, and the desire to fix it, that's his job, he knows this, is so powerful that he can't see past her pleading eyes and begging voice. It hurts.

Hind sight is 20/20. There's been thoughts for years, one's bitten off when they just begin and beaten down; never fully allowed to develop. But he had no memory then, no idea that he shouldn't be allowing things to be thought, be dwelled upon and grow. She's different than Max to him, but that's how it's always been. Looking back, the pieces shift and click into a place, and he can almost physically feel it all come together like the pieces of a puzzle; he never knew it was incomplete. Two letters, so insignificant, so easy and yet they tore his world to shreds and left him scrambling to hold onto it; he was _in_ love with her.


	4. Branded

If Max was bullied, she'd enact vengeance without a backwards glance. The same is true with Justin; it's just the thoughts behind it that's different. With Max it's all about pride and family and being a big sister. With Justin it's all territory and rights; a growling voice in the back of her head claiming, "_Mine."_

She and she alone own the rights to Justin Russo, and has since as far back as she can remember. Since the first time a spell went wrong (ice cream tastes so much better than peas) and he was there to chastise her for not eating her vegetables ("_They'll make you healthy "_) and then stopped her tears (the creamy coolness still tasted like those evil little green monsters) with a hug, leaving stray thoughts and impressions floating around in her head; _warm, home, hers._

It was weird when her big brother got his first girlfriend. Suddenly, there was another girl in his life (their mother didn't count; she wasn't really a girl). Someone he gave his special Alex Smiles too, and bought cup cakes for. She didn't like it, but she kept quiet and waited. The girl came suddenly; surely she'd go away just as fast. And she did, as did all the other girls who thought they could stake claim to what was rightfully hers, and Alex relaxed.

She always knew he'd never marry. There would be no signing of a legal document, no ceremony with a proclamation of ownership, no girls joking of "catching herself a good one" over bridal magazines, no symbolic collar around his finger (he already had an owner); just as she never worried about her current romantic interest being "the one." She'd never marry either.

"Why'd you do it?" He tries for confusion and fails.

"Do what?" She never did like to make things easy, but he needs to hear the words and isn't in the mood to play games.

"He's talking of pressing charges." She's not a minor anymore; consequences are far more severe now.

"For kicking him in the balls?" She laughs as she shrugs it off. "I'll just say it was self defense." She sobers at his stony expression, turning her eyes away as a soft sigh of resignation escapes from parted lips. "I just…" one hand goes out from her side in a vague meaningless gesture, "didn't like what he said. It's true," a teasing glint enters narrow eyes as she looks at him, "you do deserve a good ass kicking, but-" once again her eyes dart away from his, her voice lowering, getting softer, more honest, "it's not his to kick. You're mine." He jerks back a little, and her eyes jump up to lock with his as she back tracks, "My brother. You're my brother, just like Ma-"

"You're mine too." She shouldn't have heard him, the words the softest of sounds in the still room. They both just stand there, each staring, each understanding. Nothings ever spoken, not fully, and yet too much is revealed, exposed and bare. So raw it nearly physically hurts hanging between them.

She breaks first, moving through the suddenly too thick too dry air to embrace him. He's frozen beneath her hands, unnaturally still in her hold before slowly his arms come up to wrap around her like steel bands and she can't move away, not that she even wants to try.

When he pulls back slightly, head tilting down to hers, she doesn't try to stop him. The kiss burns like a brand, scorching her lips before seeming to spread over the rest of her skin. It hurts, but she can't, won't, stop, her own mouth coming into play as she presses back, teeth biting too hard, determined to leave her own mark.

She wears tanks tops the next few days, proudly displaying the dark hand shaped bruises on her arms. Harper asks questions of concern that she blows off, and Justin smiles knowingly every time. She doesn't comment, her face mirroring his when she sees the remaining signs of a bloody lip he never bothered to magically heal.

Alex wakes up sore after every night she spends with Justin, but she can't bring herself to complain. Instead she finds herself cutting an inch off her favorite shorts; showing glimpses of the perfect imprint of her brother's teeth on her inner thigh.

The bruises and bite marks don't stop and Harper becomes increasingly worried over her best friend's new found desire to show off every blemish to her once flawless skin.

"Are you sure it's healthy? I mean, he's _hurting you_." Her voice drops down and she leans forward conspiringly.

Alex lets out a sigh of exasperation, she's heard this all before, and turns to the auburn headed girl. "Maybe I like it," she nearly snaps.

Dark eyes widen before taken this bit of news in stride; years of learning to handle the mischievous young woman having taught her to adjust quickly. "Oh, well sadism and masochism is much more accepted in today's culture as a sexual norm, and I for one plan to fully embrace this new side of you." She pauses, hands come up and fingers twirling as she hurries to clarify, "Just not, you know, with actual pain part. Or with the actually embracing, cause I don't really think of you that way and I don't think your boyfriend would like that. By the way, who is your boyfriend?"

"We want to keep it a secret. More exciting." The lie slips easily from her tongue and she's completely unsurprised when Harper buys it without question.

The campus is big, but she knows his schedule and she sees him bent over a text book during his lunch, the top three buttons on his oxford undone, allowing peeks at smooth skin and red scratch marks. Possessive pride swells within her and after his Advanced Chemistry but before his Anthropology class Alex shoves him behind the stairwell. She runs lips over the reddened skin, soothing the sharp intakes of breath on ever nip of blunt teeth with gentle kisses. Pink tongue darts out to taste smooth skin and dip into the sensitive flesh of his belly button before moving down to the sprinkle of dark hair above the button fly of his jeans. He's panting above her, hands grasping at empty air as she oh so damn slowly releases the metal from its denim prison. She chuckles at his startled yelp when she yanks hard, pulling both materials down to his ankles. _Hers_.

It's no surprise she has admirers. Young men and boys alike look on from afar with a kind of painful longing; if the fact that she's out of the majority of Justin's alumni's grasp, the symbols of ownership, his signature, proudly displayed on her exposed skin should be warning enough that's she's claimed. Should be, but isn't.

Shane's a nice enough guy; a little geeky, a little awkward, but nice. It takes her nearly twenty minutes for her to realize that he's flirting with her.

"What are you doing?" She tries to bite back a laugh, biting her lip to hide the smile threatening to split her face at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Asking you to dinner." He blinks rapidly, shifting his backpack. She notices that his eyes are rather pretty, and his hair flips and flops in an endearing way. A year ago she may have said yes.

"No." It's easier on him if she's quick, blunt. And if she moves the strap of her tank top, rubbing the fabric against the fresh abrasions (soft flesh and concrete walls) it's just to make her point a little clearer.

She doesn't notice the dark eyes watching the exchange.

Later, while eating lunch with her brother, Justin's hand comes up and rests on the back of her neck, fingers lightly stroking the bared skin there. She looks up to give him a smile, failing to notice Shane pausing in his walk by, eyes fixed on the position they're in, and leans into his touch. She doesn't miss the smile that splits Justin's face as she rests her hand on his knee and steals a strawberry out of his fruit cup.

**This was actually posted in two chapters on LJ, but I thought it worked well as one. The idea hit me at work, and wouldn't bugging me until I wrote it.**


	5. Payback

**This was a response to a request on LJ. However I'm not comfortable writting all that sexual of scenes just yet, so this is what you get. Be kind.**

The request: Alex/Justin - Justin using magic to make Alex orgasm in public. Non-established relationship.

Yes, I took a cop out. No actual touching, just a simple spell gone wrong (or more a "this seemed like a good idea at the time") and Justin dealing with the consequenses.

* * *

He just meant to punish her. She'd pranked him so many times, manipulated him to get what she wanted, and then got out of it with a pout and wide eyes.

It seemed so logical at first; cute boy she obviously liked, Alex doing her best to win him over, and doing quite well it seemed, with flipping hair and witty remarks, outside at the park.

He mumbled a few quick words, flicked his wand discretely, and watched. Watched as her eyes widened and she let out a shaky breath.

But then she was biting her lip, eyes half closed and hands clutching at the bench she'd abruptly sat, more like fallen, onto, barely noticing that Michael had taken off in confusion and Justin… he was in trouble. From where he was, he had the perfect view of his little sister, head thrown back, long neck exposed and little noises escaping from parted lips and his mouth went dry.

"Oh god," she breathed and if Justin's pants were suddenly a little too tight, well, then they were completely unrelated.

He watched, transfixed, as magic, _his _imagic, caused his baby sister to whimper and squirm, her breathing becoming erratic. Beads of sweat formed, causing tendrils of hair to stick to her neck and chest and he bit his lip, trying not to react as she arched; the long curve of her body, chest heaving and mouth open, coming off the bench in one smooth curve. She ran her hands across her thighs and over her stomach, revealing the tiniest sliver of skin and causing Justin to press shoulder blades into the bark of the tree at his back, as she tried to get some friction, the heel of her hand finally pressing down, against the denim of her jeans, along the metal teeth of the zipper and she gasps at the contact before she bites her lip, hard, and he watches as she clutches the metal of the bench with her free hand as one last desperate whimper escapes her lips and she collapses boneless, head down and eyes shut.

It would be wise if he doesn't move, not that he's sure he even can, but her eyes move slowly up to meet his anyways. Her face is sweaty, her eyes half glazed, but he sees the recognition in them.

He hears the ominous snick of his door opening and looks just in time to see her shut it with the same soft force.

She shoves him with enough pressure he grunts when his back hits the bed.

"Payback's a bitch."


	6. Things I Never Wanted to Know

Things I Never Wanted to Know

**A/N: I wanted to post something today, but I couldn't seem to write a one-shot. I did begin a chapter Jalex fic though, so expect a new story soon. I apologize for how short it is.**

_"__I didn't want to look at your brain! There's a lot of scary stuff in there!"_

She couldn't look at her best friend directly for nearly a week after the little magic mishap.

She grown accustomed to how Alex could bend nearly anyone around her little finger, how she was capable of extreme selfishness and destruction, and how she seemed uncaring of anything not directly related to her. That was the Alex Russo she knew; but getting into the dark wizard's head, literally, left her with far more knowledge than she ever desired.

She didn't notice anything unusual at first; just skimming the dark thoughts of her long time friend, and trying to focus on finding how the body worked. But when Justin, beautiful wonderful dreamy Justin, put his hand on her best friend's shoulder and spoke directly to her, Harper, she took the strange flip in her stomach to be her own feelings. The jealousy coursing through her veins when he asked her to meet his girlfriend was familiar, but the thoughts accompanying the pounding her veins, the thoughts of all the uses of magic she could use to make the girl disappear, was not; they were darker, meaner, and Alex flavored.

When the Russos began yelling, voices rising and anger brought fourth, Harper stays silent, flashes of her own parents fleeting through her mind. Then Justin smiles, at who she's not sure, could be her or Alex, but the images come unbidden. There's no her in them, no Harper at all. There's mingled breath and tangled limbs with slow kisses and nails digging into sun kissed skin, and she knows.

She had retreated, allowed the wizard to take control in order to find the proper spell to get her back, safe, in her own body; away from the half formed thoughts and strangely familiar desire.

It took one week for her to be able to look at Alex again, one week to learn to except that her best friend and she shared something other than gender, one week to move on and accept it. She thinks she did fairly well.


	7. Goodnight

Goodnight

Summary: Set after the movie, after Alex reversed the spell and the Russo were one big family again.

They don't wrestle anymore and it bothers her. It feels like they've lost something, a connection or understanding, and she can't stand it, that they've gone backwards. He's her brother, she should still be able to grapple over the remote with him or have pillow fights, or even just to see who can land on top.

He pulls away every time she initiate things, and if she's honest, isn't very often. It hurts slightly, but she can't bring herself to push it. It's not so simple anymore and she can't figure out why.

Then he almost disappears, and that's there, the knowledge, the bold faced fact that it could have all been gone, lost forever because of some stupid wish and it would have been all her fault.

She doesn't know what made her do it, but with Max sleeping in their parents room and the night air blowing in through the window, it felt right. She nearly tackles him, pinning him to the bed in a playful tussle and for the first time in nearly two years, he fights back.

She's not even sure who winning, and she can't bring herself to care; it's nice and familiar and she's giggling so hard she feels tears in the back of her eyes and he's giving as good as he gets. There's breaths mingling now and then and her legs are so wrapped around his that she doesn't know how they'll ever get free, and he's pressed so close that she can smell whatever cologne he's wearing underlined with sweat; she kind of likes the smell.

It clicks, right as his hand goes for her newly freed wrist and she jerks her hips up to stop him and his leg moves out to pin hers, and it only takes a second and she knows; this is why they don't wrestle anymore. It's all so much, and it's not innocent; the way it use to be when she was still young and he saw her as such. This is no sibling tussle, no family-hate match, its all bodies and breath and he's a _guy _and she's not sure when that happened. It takes a single second for it all to become clear, and just one more for her to decide that it doesn't matter.

She's got him almost pinned, except for the way his leg is wrapped around hers greatly dampening her leverage, but she's got his hand caught in the now disheveled blankets, and she's half over him, her hands pushing him down as he pushes back; it's all a game of tug-a-war, only not quiet. She's not sure how, but their faces line up, and he's breathing hard, chest pressed against hers. As warm breath tickles her neck, she wonders how long he's known.

She's breathing hard, he's gotten stronger and it's much more difficult to keep up now, but she turns her head slightly, lips just brushing the top of his cheek and she feels him shudder beneath her. It's exciting and forbidden, and god their parents are in the very next room, but she abruptly digs fingers into his flannel top, releasing his still struggling hand in the process and pulling him towards her and its suddenly different again.

He's turning his head and their lips just brush; it's not a kiss, it'd be weird and gross and wrong to kiss Justin, and a sin to kiss her brother. And then he's moving, pressing against her, while his hands settle for a firm grasp on her shoulder and low on her hip, pulling her towards him as she bunches the cloth on his chest in her hands. One knee gets hooked around his hip and they're suddenly aligned, her elbow pressing into the mattress beneath her side and his harsh breath against her cheek. A few buttons have come undone during the struggle, and one hand has found its way under the red fabric to the too hot skin of his back.

She knows it's up to her to make the next move, it always is, and she's not sure if she's ready. There's a lot at stake, their entire family could fall apart and they just got it put back together and she can't have it be all her fault again.

She's not sure how long they stay there, entangled on his bed just breathing against each other, but he finally pulls back, looking at her with dark eyes. "We should probably go to bed. Big day tomorrow." His voice is soft, and she's surprised at how disappointed she feels at his words. He looks away and she can almost feel the heat coming from his cheeks as they darken."Finish this some other time?" His voice cracks half-way through, going up unnaturally high for a moment as he stares stubbornly away from her.

A grin slips easily onto her lips as she untwines herself from him. "Oh, we will definitely be doing this again." Her voice is teasing, but he's looking at her, a smile to match her own on his face. She crawls out of his bed and into her own, her eyes darting over to meet his every few minutes, but she can't stop herself.

Whispers of "goodnight" fill the room as she snuggles into the cold blankets, pressing her nose into the fabric of her shirt; it smells vaguely of her brother and she smiles as she falls asleep.

**A/N: I'm not at all satisfied with the ending, but I couldn't figure out how to end it after Alex tells him that they will definitely be doing that again.**


	8. Actions and Reactions

Actions and Reactions

Summary: They've always dealt with things differently.

**A/N: This is what I've been up to the last few days. Getting half-way through the next chapter of Bad Book and writting little random one-shots.**

He likes to follow the rules. They make sense and they're there for a reason. They keep him safe and healthy and happy and make him feel good.

He dreams of her every night. He's given up trying to stop.

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She doesn't see the point. If something makes her happy why shouldn't she do it? It's not like she's hurting anyone else, or anyone that matters anyway. Life's short, and all that other mumbo jumbo. She's going to live it to the fullest.

She likes when they brush against each other; feeling the warmth of his skin through the layers of cloth separating them.

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He takes baths every day, washing each area of the body thoroughly, and enforces his own curfew. His grades are pristine, and his parents are so rarely disappointed in him. He plays the good big brother, the loving devoted son, because he can't stand to face the idea that it's all a lie.

He hates those guys who ask her to their "biology partner," and can't stop the happy flip in his stomach when she still thinks it's all about class.

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She's use to the looks of lived down expectations on her family's faces, and her teachers no longer thinks this year to be better than the last; if anything, they prepare for worse. She's going to do what she wants, it's not like any of it matters anyways.

He's ditched the sweaters and long sleeve button ups for v-neck t-shirts and snug jeans. She stares at him openly, admiring the way the material fits over his defined arms; fingers itching to trace the skin at the open collar.

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He doesn't seek redemption; he won't get it. But he feels better after a good nights study session, or a completed back breaking day at work.

He holds her close and breaths in the smell of her perfume before running up the stairs to finish his note cards. There's no hope for him, and sometimes the guilt eats him alive.

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She doesn't exert herself more than she has to, and she's not going to "be good" unless she gets something out of it. Nothing will change what just is and she can't be saved.

She lets her lips linger on his cheek a little longer than appropriate before heading to bed, but it doesn't matter; she's already going to hell.


	9. Hand Holding

**A/N: I know this is beyond late for Valentine's Day, but I've just been so busy, and occasionally lazy. I'm now full time at work.**

She's not a romance kind of girl. She's not into anniversaries and beach walking. Flowers are ok (she still sends herself a bouquet now and then when she's feeling down) but the young wizard would much rather have the cash; pretty petals cost a pretty penny. So it's only a mild surprise when she walks into the loft, cheap arrangement in hand; must be a new still-doesn't-know-better boy.

The thing is, Justin's into flowers and romance and all that mushy crap his little sister can't bring herself to stomach. He likes candle lit dinners and fancy dances and whereas Alex may now and then indulge in princess fantasies, she's always the one fighting the duel in her own twisted fairy tale.

It still surprises him though, when the flowered bouquet is shoved in his face after their parents turn in for the night. It's February 16th, and the dark haired girl had successfully evaded every sign of the holiday. Although, to be fair, she didn't exactly pay for the flowers (if Justin didn't want her using his credit cards he shouldn't keep them in his wallet where _anyone _could find them) but she did cast a small easy spell so that they caused however to smell them to sneeze; she'd been careful, no need to turn her brother into a bee or something.

If the bit of low-priced flora was a surprise, it was nothing compared to the DVD she popped into the player, settling herself next to him on bright couch after the mini sneezing fit calms down. Pink letters come across the screen and Justin smiles in recognition; she was seven the first time he forced her to watch it, saying "every girl needs to see this movie at least one." She had pushed him off the swings at school the next day in retaliation; the film had made her cry.

"What's this for?" It's half way through the movie, and she's yet to do more than make snarky comments and laugh inappropriately when the taxi hits the leading lady.

"It's Valentine's Day and we're- one of those... you know." She shift uncomfortably under his amused grin, jaw clenched stubbornly and dark eyes refusing to leave the screen.

He doesn't bother to tell her it's two days past the holiday, but he can't stop the happy flip in his stomach that she's doing this... for him. "A couple." His voice is teasing, gray eyes sparkling as he observes her flushed cheeks and jumpy demeanor; she's not yet used to the word.

"I don't want the world knowing I'm dating a dork," she snaps, stealing the pop corn bowl and leaning away from him on the couch in retribution.

His eyes go suddenly serious, his face impassive as their eyes meet. His voice is neutral, quite, mirroring the couple in the film, "I think my being a 'dork' is the least of our worries if this gets out."

They are both still before Alex moves, one hand reaching out and grabbing his, forcibly lacing their fingers together. "Screw 'em." Suddenly the film seems every so interesting to the brunette, her eyes trained ahead as the couple on screen both seem to go on with their lives without the other and Justin squeezes his fingers over her smaller hand.

**A/N: A cookie to whoever can guess what movie it is that they are watching.**


	10. A Touch of Sanity

A Touch of Sanity

Summary: Set after Wizards Exposed when their walking around the desert. Justin feels guilty for exposing them as wizards and Alex still blames him for it. Jalex naturally.

**A/N: This was supposed to start out with Alex comforting Justin, but I realized that I couldn't make Alex just forgive him so easily, she holds grudges and would be the only one in the family (besides Justin) to stay angry at him.**

They just forgive him, no glaring, no lecture, no "how could you be so stupid" lines meant to incite guilt within their elder son. Perfect Justin did wrong, made a huge mistake and destroyed their entire world, and her parents just hug him and say they know he didn't mean to; and he claims she gets off easy.

She can't, won't, forgive that effortlessly.

They make camp when it starts getting dark, debating the pros and cons of a fire, and Alex once again curses herself for forgetting her cell phone. It's all Jerry's fault anyways, he's the one who took it away just because the bill was a little high, and the fact that Mason being back had distracted her from retrieving it just yet probably put some of the blame on her boyfriend as well.

She pulled the plaid shirt closed over her chest, her arms crossing as she started to shiver from the dropping temperature around her. The young wizard knew her brother wasn't always the most street savvy of people, and when he'd offered her his own outter layer as protection from the harsh desert sun despite his own skin being far more prone to burning she took it without comment. Let him burn. It's hard to tell in the fading sun light, but she's pretty sure the tips of Justin's ears are pink, the sight giving her a sick twist of satisfaction in her stomach.

Theresa's fear of being discovered quickly win her husband and Max over, the eldest Russo's statistical ramblings of the exact degrees it gets when the sun goes down in a desert dying on his lips at the fear in his mother's eyes and it's decided. Professor Sweet grumbles idly by while Alex burrows deeper into her boyfriend's arms, trying to find the warmth there.

She's not sure when she dozed off, it's only as she awakens that she even realizes she's not sitting anymore, her body caught in a warm cocoon between her little brother and Mason. Dark eyes search around her, instinctively sensing something missing, her brows furrowing as she notices the blank space between her mother and Max.

The younger boy is surprisingly clingy as she disentangles herself, making a soft sound of protest at the loss of warmth and then she's tip-toeing away, working towards what could very easily be an oddly shaped rock at the edge of their little make-shift camp.

Justin's back becomes more distinguished as she comes closer, his eyes focused into the darkness of the direction they're going. She sits down next to him without ceremony, wondering absently if he's going to catch cold for being away from the warm press of bodies and deciding instantly she's not giving back his shirt. The barely noticeable turn of his head is all the sign he gives of acknowledging her presence.

"I always thought it'd be Max who'd get us caught." The words are casual, her tone harsh as she stares at him, eyes taking in the way his lower to the ground, lips thinning as he stares at his hands. She's surprised when her own hand moves forward, pads of her fingers pressing into the soft skin of his forearm and wrist; his skin is chilled. Her touch is far gentler than she wants it to be. She's still angry, can feel the cold burn in her chest, the desire to point the finger of blame and spit out heated words churning in the pit of her stomach, because their world is falling apart and someone needs to pay. She wonders why she doesn't as Caribbean memories try to surface, she can still feel of wind and hair in her face when everything is taken from her and she pushes the memory back as her thumb starts to move in small circles over the back of his wrist.

He's staring at her hand like it's a snake, caution and dread all mixing together with the careful blankness he's held since they lost sight of the entrance to the underground base. He'll blame himself for any harm that comes to the wizards still trapped below, she knows this, he's so quick to pass blame onto anyone else except when it's all his to claim, taking on far more than his fair share during those times.

"Alex." Her name sounds so broken in the darkness, as if he's choking on it and she remembers this is why everyone is so easy to forgive him when he does wrong; he punishes himself far more severely than anyone else ever could. Grey eyes, colorless in the night, move up to her face and she's reminded flittingly of when Juliet was taken, just before he had broken down in her arms, when he was still trying to hold on, to hold it all together.

She moves as if to hug him, only her fingers never release his wrist and their bodies don't move at the right angle, but he needs this. The kiss tastes like desperation and fear, all underlined with that bond between them, the magic, she'd always thought. Only she can feel it's absence, now that she's still, feel the lack of it's thrum beneath her skin so that all that's left is her and the desert and Justin Justin Justin.

She's reminded of a brush of lips in the jungle as his right hand comes up to cup her face, of the night that never happened because she made everything as it was before with a magic rock and the desire for it not to be broken anymore.

"Alex." The two teens turn quickly as the soft sound, grey and brown eyes taking in the teenager standing there, staring at them in confusion and hurt and million other emotions that Alex remembers feeling when the same boy professed love to her brother's girlfriend.

Her voice is soft sigh in the endless desert. "Mason."

**A/N: Ok, so I seriously hate the ending. I wanted Mason to catch them but this is worded all wrong. Oh well, this may get a sequel/a second chapter. We'll see. **

**I purposely have not watched any WoWP episodes after Wizards Exsposed because I love this idea so much and I didn't want anything to effect how I saw things playing out from the end of that ep and thus change the story.**

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	11. Touching the Edge

Touching the Edge

Summary: Sequel to A Touch of Sanity. (I swear I have no idea where I'm getting the titles to these, they make no sense.) The Russos and company make it out of the desert. Awkwardness all around!

**A/N: So I got what's his face name wrong. It's not Professor Sweet, it Chancellor Tootietootie. Whoops, my bad. I also went ahead and watched Alex Tells the World. If I continue this on after this chapter I shall be following canon, only without Mason. I'm going to pretend he's not there in those parts. I also have no idea how long it takes to walk/hitch-hike 2,000 miles so I made up a number of days.**

She counts it no-small miracle when they finally see something resembling civilization. It's a road, and not a dirt covered stretch of land her mother insists looks like cars have driven on, but black and hot with the air dancing and shimmering above it. It's been two days and one night since they left the compound and they're all dirty, hungry and tired.

The gods must be looking out for wizard kind today because a Jeep passes less than seven minutes after Jerry's foot touches the asphalt; Max counted the minutes out loud, surprisingly accurate. It's a tight fit, getting seven extra people into a vehicle meant for five. Alex found herself shoved into the floorboard of the back seat, her little brother pressed into her side; his suggestion of sitting on the young man (she thinks his name is Randal) in the passenger seat's lap having been quickly vetoed. Chancellor Tootietootie and their dad have sat have stood in the back by the spare tire leaving her mom, Justin and Mason all squished in the back seat. She wonders if she's the only one to hear the low growl split from her maybe-boyfriend's lips at the decision but her elder brother's slight flinch and her mother's curious glance tell her otherwise.

It's too tense for sleep, she can feel the hard line of someone's leg against her back, muscles tense and firm. A quick glance reveals it's Mason and the dark wizard wonders if knowing is better or worse.

They say goodbye Paul and Mark (or was it Steven and Lucas) at some small town she doesn't bother to remember the name of, but there's a lot of lights and buildings with couches and people to give them dirty looks for sitting on the once clean furniture. Jerry insists it's too dangerous to call anyone or withdrawal money from their account so soon after escaping, but Theresa is willing to pawn her jewelry and Max produces an odd item that no one knows what it is, let alone does, that surprisingly sells for a good chuck of cash. It's not a lot but it'll cover food and a few bribes getting them home.

It's nearly a week before she sees the Manhattan skyline again. A week of cold bathes and wearing the same clothes and not speaking to Mason or Justin, or really anyone. She's not sure what her parents think, or if they've even bothered to come up with an explanation to the three's near constant silence towards each other, but she can't begin to bring herself to care; too many other things to worry about, she's surprised she even has room in her head to think about the mess she's gotten herself into.

They're waiting for the ferry, their numbers now down to six since Chancellor Tootietootie took off somewhere in West Virginia, claiming family in the area, but Alex has always been a skilled liar and the robed wizard hasn't had much practice. She doesn't bother to call him out or question his motives though, too much has happened to allow her time to dwell on the little things.

"I'm going to head off then." Her head snaps up quickly, eyes meeting her probably-no-longer-boyfriend in what feels like months. There's pain, as to be expected, but mostly resignation and steel. She doesn't bother to argue, this is something she can't win, and though she'll never admit it, part of her doesn't want him to stay.

Goodbyes are murmured, but his eyes only leave her face once to glance at Justin, who's remained silent during the exchange, before he turns to leave.

Dark eyes watch the werewolf walk away, her heart aching just a little more with each step. She loves him, she'd never try to deny that, and it's a bit like losing him all over again, but there's an ending here, a sense of the closure she never got the first time they were separated and she knows she'll be ok. The tears she wipes from her cheeks as his dark hair disappears into the crowd are the last she'll shed for him and the young wizard feels slightly lighter when she turns back to her family, breathing in the ocean air as the ferry draws nearer. A strange sense of rightness steals over her as they move onto the boat as a unit, her little brother between her mom and dad and Justin by her side for the first time since that night in the desert.


End file.
